


Bloody Knuckles and Cheshire Smiles

by toasty_kitten



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 12:07:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18468643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toasty_kitten/pseuds/toasty_kitten
Summary: A high pitched chuckle, almost a whine, slides from his brother's lips as he finishes that thought. A shudder runs down his spine at the memories that sound drags up.The grip on his wrist is released, and he pulls his hand to his chest. “How long do I have to decide?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a very distinct lack of TUA mob aus (read: absolutely none) so I decided to write my own. I'll update the tags as I go along, but for now, enjoy.
> 
> I have absolutely no update schedule either so please. Don't be mean about how long it takes me to post new chapters. 
> 
> Don't be shy! Feel free to talk to me, I don't bite much :)

He shuts the door behind him, locking it as he switches on the light. Cracks his neck, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack by the door. Places his keys in the bowl on the little table. The knife holster stays strapped to his chest, and one gun stays in his waistband he pulls the gun from his boot and places it next to the bowl along with his thick leather gloves.   
“Hello, Diego.”  
He jumps at the voice, whirling around and grabbing one of the knives from it's holster, connecting with the intruder's shoulder with the wet pop of cleanly tearing fabric and flesh.  
The man on his couch scoffs. “That's no way to greet your brother, is it now? Honestly, where have your manners gone?”  
Finally processing who it is, he sheathes the second knife he had already drawn. “Klaus?” he asks, getting his answer in the unchanging, confident smirk thrown his way. He takes a moment to take in his brother's appearance before answering. He looks thinner than the last time they had spoken, and the skin tight leather pants, mesh crop top, and black stiletto boots he was wearing didn't do anything to mask that, especially with the oversized waistcoat draping over his boney form. “What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”  
The smirk stays plastered on his face. “I have my resources. As for why I'm here, I think you know the answer to that already.”  
He did not, in fact, know already. These concerns were voiced as such, and the smirk widened into something much more sinister. He felt himself getting drawn into the electrifying energy of Klaus, shaking it off and grabbing a first aid kit from a drawer in the kitchen and offering it before his brother continued speaking.  
“That's where you're wrong, Diego. See, as you very well know, I'm just the messenger here, so if you could put your knives away that would be great. You also know that the only reason you're here is because of us. And due to unforeseen circumstances, apparently your remaining ties to us have become… an issue. To the others.” A muddy green file folder, streaked with what appears to be dried blood, is slammed onto the coffee table, and as he reaches out to pick it up, he's stopped with a surprisingly firm grip on his hand. “You have two choices here. Pick up the folder and read it. Or don't. Under the Boss’ orders though, if you read it I've got to take you back with me. If you don't read it, well let's just say that you won't need to worry about making any more wrong choices. Or right choices, for that matter.” A high pitched chuckle, almost a whine, slides from his brother's lips as he finishes that thought. A shudder runs down his spine at the memories that sound drags up.   
The grip on his wrist is released, and he pulls his hand to his chest. “How long do I have to decide?”   
Klaus drew his eyebrows together in mock thought. “You have until I'm finished stitching this up,” he says, gesturing to the knife still sticking out of his shoulder. “Tick tock, brother.”  
Diego wanders stiffly back to the kitchen at the sounds of the knife being removed from his shoulder, knowing that he's going to need to get his couch stain treated again as the droplets of blood hit it's leather surface. He hears the ripping off an antiseptic wipe packet opening, and stares at the granite countertops of his shitty apartment kitchen that he's grown to love. He wonders briefly if maybe it would be better to just let them kill him, because at least then he wouldn't have to think about the whole new life he'd be leaving behind.  
“You got any whiskey?” Klaus calls out, and as he turns he sees him there, shirt off, sewing needle already threaded with dental floss.   
“For you or the stab wound?” he throws back, internally smiling at the scowl that gets him, not daring to risk expressing that pleasure for the very real possibility he might get stabbed for it.  
“Does it matter?”   
He sighs and goes through his alcohol cabinet, looking for a cheap bottle he wouldn't mind wasting. He finds one at the back and gives it to Klaus, who takes a swig straight from the bottle before pouring it into his arm, hissing at the sting before he starts to stitch the wound up, neat, even stitches, as though his skin was nothing but torn shirt. Diego stares, remembering how it felt to do the same so many times before he'd finally gotten fed up with it all. He's jolted back to the waking world with a sharp slap to the face from a whiskey-blood damp hand, scowling at Klaus who's pulling his shirt back on without bothering to wipe off any of the various fluids on him. He steels himself, taking a deep breath.  
“What's in the folder?”   
Klaus grins, sharp, feral, and deadly. “Open it and see. We go back tomorrow morning.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He hasn't let himself think about his family much since he left. He's tried to forget it, but that's the thing. He can't. He briefly wonders if maybe he doesn't want to forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh chapter two more exposition yay
> 
> don't be afraid to talk to me, I don't bite unless asked to

He doesn't sleep that night. Instead, he lays staring at the ceiling of his one-bedroom apartment. He'll miss this place, really. It was only his for just over 3 months, and he didn't even really have time to adjust to living a “normal” life. Proof of that is in the knife under his pillow, the gun in his bedside table, all the weapons hidden around his tiny space. He keeps weapons where most people would stash lube and condoms. It's not the best thing to do, and he knows this, but he has to, with his family is. And oh what a family it is. He hasn't let himself think about his family much since he left. He's tried to forget it, but that's the thing. He can't. He briefly wonders if maybe he doesn't want to forget. He's shaken from his thoughts just before sunrise with Klaus's voice floating through his bedroom door.  
“Get your shit ready to go. We're leaving in 20.” His voice is rough with morning and probably the rest of the bottle of whiskey. It's rough with something else too. It's his work voice. Diego's brain vaguely, and unhelpfully, supplies that it's the same voice that he's heard growling orders through thin walls, typically followed by screaming. Both good and bad screaming. These thoughts are quickly shoved aside as he reaches under his bed for his duffel bag, already halfway prepped to go with clothes and backup weapons. Call him paranoid, but he kept it there. Just in case. Reaching under his pillow, he pulls out one of his more… well-used knives. It's his first switchblade, hinge slightly rusted from age, permanently stained in some places, but sharp enough to cause plenty of damage. He goes around his apartment taking various guns, knives, and hammers from their hiding places, ignoring Klaus's comments on how very creative he is, packing them all into his bag. Lastly is just his coat, which he pulls from its place on the rack, taking one last look around because somehow, he knows he won't be coming back. As he goes to pick up his keys, a sharp command stops him.  
“Leave them. Our ride is here.” Klaus spits out in that venomous tone, implied threats weighing heavy in the air. Diego drops his keys back into the bowl by the door. Klaus leads them through his apartment complex to the garage in a way that suggests they've known where he is for longer than the file said. It's an unsettling thought, but oddly comforting as well. Despite their shortcomings, his family cares for him, even if they don't show it in a standard way.   
They reach a simple black van, one he recognizes the instant he sees it. Klaus knocks three times on the passenger side window, and an audible click sounds through the silent parking garage. He opens the side door and pushes Diego in, stifling any thoughts he may have had of running. As soon as Klaus shuts the passenger door behind him, the van pulls out of the garage into the light, where he finally realizes who's driving.  
“Luther.”  
“Diego.” It's spoken with contempt, and he realizes that maybe he really should have just accepted his death rather than have it drawn out. He knows how this ends; despite the file not having it explicitly stated, he's intended to end up dead.   
The rest of the ride there is silent, other than the occasional dark chuckle from Klaus, probably at some horrible new way to hurt someone that he's thought of. They pull up behind the mansion, which has gotten a new paint job since the last time he was there. He's dragged up to the door with his arms firmly held behind his back by Luther, and Klaus gleefully rings the bell before flinging open the large French doors, loudly shouting “Daddy's home!” as the trio is met with the rest of their siblings standing there, Allison in front with Vanya at her side with twin grins, Five behind and to the right with arms simply crossed, and Ben on the left with a menacing glare. No one moves. No one speaks. Until Allison opens her mouth, voice dripping with venom.  
“Welcome back, Diego.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a sharp intake of breath from everyone at his name, and Ben takes a miniscule step back at the same time that Vanya moves to reach for her switchblade and Five snaps his head back towards him with a vicious glare. He he doesn't need to see him to know that Klaus is bristling behind him. Allison grips his face tighter, nails digging into his jaw, and through her teeth spits out “Don't you ever say his name again or I swear, I don't care what use you are to me, you're dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, finally more of this! My excuse for not updating in literal eons? I really just forgot I was writing it I'm deadass  
> But really, sorry. Please enjoy this next chapter and hope that I remember that it exists

It's strange being back, even after such a short time away. The air is thick with tension, building to a sharp peak as Allison stares at him, one eyebrow hitched up, no one sure if she wants him to reply or not.  
Five is the one to break the silence, not moving as he speaks. “Ballsy move showing your face here again. If only you'd been as bold four months ago.” He looks away now, pain (and something else, too) in his eyes, and falls silent.  
Allison takes a slow, confident step forward, her heels clicking lightly on the floor, Luther and Klaus falling back behind Diego as she approaches. “I need something from you,” she says as she drags one perfectly manicured nail under his chin, gripping his face tightly and pulling his eyes back up to her when he tries to look away. “Something I can't get from anyone else.”  
Even without being able to see behind him, Diego practically feels Klaus smirk as Allison continues speaking. “I know you looked at the folder, since you're standing here in front of me.” She pauses, as if anticipating that he'll interrupt her.  
Diego knows it's a trick, he does, but he can't stop himself. “Yeah. And I gotta say, I'm confused. What does Peabody want with me?”  
There's a sharp intake of breath from everyone at his name, and Ben takes a miniscule step back at the same time that Vanya moves to reach for her switchblade and Five snaps his head back towards him with a vicious glare. He he doesn't need to see him to know that Klaus is bristling behind him. Allison grips his face tighter, nails digging into his jaw, and through her teeth spits out “Don't you ever say his name again or I swear, I don't care what use you are to me, you're dead.” She tightened her grip even more, and abruptly drops her hand, leaving five tiny puncture wounds behind, tiny beads of blood welling up as she stalks back to Vanya.   
Allison's arm wraps around her waist, effectively satiating her as she slowly relaxes the hand that had been reaching toward her pocket. She glances behind her at Ben, then Klaus, then up at Allison, and Allison nods at Klaus who rushes over to Ben and wraps him up in his arms, calming him down.   
Diego shrinks down under Five’s unrelenting glare and Vanya’s tense stature, knowing that if he says one more thing without permission he'll be bleeding out on the floor before he could blink. He gives a slight nod of his head to indicate that he understands, and Allison nods to Five indicating he should go on, focused on keeping Vanya from killing Diego on the spot. He stalks forward, all lean muscle and bone, uncrossing his arms so he can gesture as he talks.  
“That bitch popped up on the radar two days ago. Took us a while to find you Diego, guess you do have some sense of self preservation after all.” He pauses at Allison clearing her throat, giving a nearly imperceptible nod to her before going on. “Anyway, after so long in hiding, he thought maybe we had loosened our watch on him and wouldn't notice him just casually waltzing down the street, and one of our new ones had been downtown and tailed him back to his car, got the license plate for us.” Another pause, looking to Allison to check how much information to divulge.  
She steps in again, not moving from her place by Vanya. “Ben tracked him down as far as possible, but they're good. We can't pinpoint their base.” She looks over at Five and he takes back over.  
“That’s where you come in. We need you to play doubles. It's well known among our… community that you're not with us anymore, so you shouldn't have a problem getting in. You'll approach them saying you don't feel safe being so out in the open since you were kicked, and offer information on us in exchange for safe housing. Get on their good side. We'll contact you when we need a check in. Any questions?" Five speaks without pause, keeping firm eye contact with Diego, monitoring his reactions.  
Diego lets out a breath when he looks away to check on Ben, slipping back into past habits of taking orders and executing them without question. "Seems straightforward enough. Where am I meeting and when do I leave?"   
Allison speaks again. "We'll take you back to your place. Tomorrow at dawn, you'll go to the corner across from your apartment. Say you've been watching from your window. Deliver your speech and they'll be obligated to have an appointment set up with a higher up. Don't worry about getting a hold of us."  
Without waiting for him to speak, she turns and walks out. Ben and Five follow, Vanya staying by the door and Klaus taking him back out to the car.   
"Isn't Luther driving back?" he asks as the man in question stays put.   
That dangerous grin spreads wide across Klaus' face once more. "Not today, brother. You're stuck with me tonight." the engine ignites, and he speeds off down the road, face locked in place the whole way back.


End file.
